


this air is getting so thin

by bosspigeon



Series: The Dadwolf Saga [1]
Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: (Thought it doesn't really come up here), Anxiety, Beard Burn Is Sexy In The Moment (Won't Be Later), Communication, Cunnilingus, Enthusiastic Consent, Felix is just Nervous, Internal Monologue, It's been a while, M/M, One Night Stands, Oral Sex, Past Abusive Relationship (Implied), Trans Dadsona (Dream Daddy), Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Verbal Check-Ins, body image issues, both characters are tipsy but sober enough to consent, trans porn by trans author, werewolf dadsona
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:42:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24740971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bosspigeon/pseuds/bosspigeon
Summary: Felix Hadley has spent his entire life living for other people. His family, his (terrible) ex-husband, his daughter-- and never for himself. While he'd never regret putting everything he had into raising his daughter, being a dedicated single parent has left little room for romantic entanglement. So now, with the weight of a lot of complicated feelings about his little girl growing up on his shoulders, he's going to do something selfish, and risky, and stupid, but... freeing, in a way?And that thing is Robert Small. (No offense, Rob.)title from "Honey Whiskey" by Nothing But Thieves
Relationships: Robert Small/Dadsona
Series: The Dadwolf Saga [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1665931
Comments: 6
Kudos: 69





	this air is getting so thin

It’s not really like the one night stands he sees in movies and on TV. They’re not crashing through the door, locked in a passionate embrace. He follows Robert up his street. There’s no small talk, and it’s actually a little uncomfortable. It's distracting enough, between his anxiety and the alcohol, that he brushes off the strange sense of familiarity he feels as they walk up the driveway.

But Robert doesn’t seem like the type for small talk, so Felix keeps his mouth shut.

The door closes behind them. It’s too dark to see anything beyond shapes, but it seems spacious. Airy. He doesn’t have much time to admire the darkened scenery before he’s being backed up against the door and kissed within an inch of his life. He melts, completely, because, god, he’d forgotten how fucking  _ good  _ it felt to kiss someone. Robert’s lips are dry, a little chapped, his stubble scratchy, but not unpleasant at all. Felix wants to feel it on his neck, his chest, his thighs.

He feels useless and shaky, his breath coming fast and hard against Robert’s mouth, and he takes notice, drawing away while Felix chases him with a weak little whine. “Hey,” Robert says, soft and husky, his eyes glinting faintly in the dark.

“I… I don’t,” Felix swallows hard, looking down towards Robert’s chin. The salt-and-pepper stubble is… really something. “I don’t usually do this,” he breathes raggedly, feeling as if he needs to explain why he’s shaking like a leaf where he’s pinned against the door.

Robert draws away slightly, and Felix feels suddenly like he can breathe a little better, but also like his lungs have shrunk slightly. “Do you want to stop?” Robert asks, his shadowed gaze dark and serious.

Felix opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He licks his lips, swallows again, and shakes his head. “No,” he says firmly. “No, I don’t.”

Robert nods, then takes him by the waist (squeezing a little at the softness and making a rough little noise of satisfaction that has Felix’s dumb animal hindbrain sitting up and panting) and guides him through the dark house.

They make it to a bedroom, in spite of Robert walking backwards while guiding him through the dark and up a set of stairs, all while bending to mouth and nip along Felix’s jaw and neck, stubble rubbing him raw in ways that he loves now, but is surely going to regret later. It’s been a  _ long  _ time since he’s had to worry about beard burn, so he’s going to enjoy it before it becomes a nuisance. The bedroom has the same sort of openness that Felix gathered from the dim silhouettes of the living room, lit a bit more brightly by the dull glow of the moon pouring in through the big glass doors leading out onto a balcony that looks out over Maple Bay. It’s probably a lovely view, but Felix has hardly a second to appreciate it before he’s being steered towards a rumpled, unmade bed. He lets it happen, still caught up in the feeling of Robert’s mouth on his neck, the scratchy-hot drag of lips and scruff with the barest edge of scraping teeth. He exhales a weak, shuddery little sound.

The back of his knees hit the bed and he lets himself fall backwards. The sheets smell a bit musty, stale and slept-in, and Robert knocks aside something that looks like a rumpled pair of jeans off the bed. They clink and jingle on the way down. But then he’s holding himself poised above Felix with eyes that shine dark and hungry in the weak moonlight. The way Robert’s looking at him… It makes him feel weak, dizzy.  _ Attractive _ . He can’t remember a time anyone’s ever looked at him like this. Which is sad, considering he was married for six years. Eight, if he counted the two years Grant spent dodging his and his lawyer’s calls.

Robert draws back a bit, his stern brows furrowing together. He searches Felix’s face, and Felix winces a bit, realizing he’s gone sort of still and cold thinking about…

_ Cold fish. Frigid bitch. _

“You still good?” Robert asks. His voice is low and husky and makes Felix’s skin tingle. His thumb is absently stroking the skin exposed at his hip where his shirt’s ridden up.

“I'm good,” he murmurs thickly, doing his best to shove that sinister little voice from his mind. He reaches out, feeling shaky and vulnerable, and wanting to get back that… that feeling of being wanted and desired.

God, he can't be sure he's ever felt desirable. But here in this dark bedroom with a near-stranger looking at him like he wants to devour him, he almost does.

Robert kisses him again, and this time there's tongue, slick and hot and insistent. He tastes a bit like stale liquor, but Felix can't say he tastes much better. That doesn't matter with hands fumbling at his belt. His chest clenches a bit, and he goes tense again, and Jesus Christ, this guy’s got to be getting tired of him freezing like a startled rabbit every thirty seconds.

Robert’s hands still, and he pulls his tongue out of Felix’s mouth to give him a look he can't quite parse in the dark.

“I'm trans,” he blurts out, his voice cracking a bit. He winces, waiting for… well, he's not sure. He's never been with a man as a man before. He didn't come out until after Grant had left, and by then he was so focused on raising Amanda on his own, dating just… didn't happen.

Robert sits up fully, leaning back on his knees. Felix feels his stomach shrivel up. He shouldn't have gone home with a stranger, God, he's so fucking stupid,  _ nobody even knows where he is-- _

As if he can see the panic mounting in Felix’s brain, Robert reached out and smooths a hand along his upper arm with… surprising tenderness. “That… explains a lot,” he says slowly, and Felix starts to relax.

Which is a relief because his entire body suddenly feels like one big tense muscle.

Robert looks him up and down, concerned, but seems to still be into things. Felix pushes up on his elbows and risks a glance down and-- yep!  _ Very _ much still into things. “You still good to go?” he asks again.

Felix swallows thickly and nods. His skin is still buzzing at the nearness, the heat of another body so close, he feels shaky and faintly queasy, but sort of in a good way? “Yeah,” he says on an exhale, and he's a little shocked himself at how rough and  _ needy _ he sounds.

Robert nods and then lowers himself back over Felix again, nosing and nipping at his jawline and neck again, sucking faintly and making Felix utter a soft, whimpery little noise. “Just… tell me what you like,” he rumbles.

Oh god, he's never been this hot in his  _ life _ .

“K-keep, um, keep talking?” Felix mumbles. He squeaks when Robert bites down gently on his earlobe. “A-and that! Keep… doing that?”

Robert laughs a little, smoky and sexy, and Felix rubs his thighs together. His underwear feels like a goddamned  _ swamp _ .

_ Do not fucking say that out loud, Hadley. That is the  _ least _ sexy simile in the universe, holy shit. _

“Can I take your clothes off?” Robert asks him, whispers it in his ear right before sinking his teeth into his neck right below it.

Felix’s body jerks off the bed and he makes a desperate, half-strangled sound. “Y-yes, please,” he manages to whimper.

Robert laughs again. Felix would be embarrassed (okay, he's a little embarrassed, regardless) if it didn't seem like Robert was genuinely enjoying Felix’s whole… situation.

His t-shirt comes first, tugged over his head and tossed aside with carelessness he can't be bothered to be upset about. Robert hesitates at the compression shirt underneath, glancing upwards for permission. Felix hesitates too. He's not too shy about his chest. The only reason he ever had anything there to begin with was because he was fat, and even after having Amanda, his breasts were never really all that much more than what a fat cis guy would have. Even the women in his family run small in the chest, from his mom to his sisters-- Aside from Vivian, who is a freak of nature in so many, many ways.

He's mostly worried about his… whole shirtless deal. Again-- he's fat. It’s not something he's shy about admitting, doesn't really mind being called it so long as it’s not intentionally cruel, but it’s different in this situation. Not to mention the stretch marks.

But the room is fairly dark, still, and he really, really, really doesn't want to stop, so he swallows his nerves and nods once.

The tank comes off, and Robert makes another low, hungry sound that shoots right between Felix’s legs. Robert’s hands find his hips again, squeeze, then slide up his sides to squeeze them too. It tickles a bit, feels sort of strange, but it feels good too. And Robert  _ really _ seems to like it.

“Wanna eat you out,” he growls, going for Felix’s waistband.

Felix’s brain screeches to a halt. “Oh my god,” he chokes out, shuddering and squeezing his thighs together at the resulting  _ throb _ between them.

He looks down while Robert undoes his jeans and starts tugging them. He thinks he sees a flash of teeth in the darkness. “Can I take that as a yes?” he asks smugly.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Felix chants helplessly, and then, like magic, his pants and underwear are gone and he's naked with another adult that isn't his doctor for the first time in roughly fourteen years.

And there's a mouth between his legs, kissing and nibbling at his thighs first, and that stubble feels just as amazing as he hoped it would, and when Robert sucks a hickey into the left one Felix’s soul leaves his body for a split second. He jerks upwards off the bed again, and this time his stomach clenches and his toes curl in the way he knows means--

“Did you come already?” Robert asks, looking up in disbelief.

“It’s… um. It’s been a while,” Felix squeaks. “I can absolutely go again!” he adds quickly. Too quickly, he thinks, still a little muzzy from the surprise climax. “N-not all people with, uh, my setup can do the whole multiple orgasm thing, but I can crank out two or three before, uh… things start getting sore.”

He winces. He probably gave a stranger far too much information about his masturbatory habits than strictly necessary, but said stranger also currently has his head between Felix’s legs, so he figures it’s alright.

“Huh,” Robert says thoughtfully. “I can work with that.” Felix can't even question what he means by that, because the next instant sees Robert diving back between his legs full force, shouldering his thighs apart and licking a hot stripe from Felix’s cunt to his dick. The sound he makes is  _ godawful _ , some kind of wheeze-squeal that he vaguely thinks sounds like someone stepping on bagpipes. But Robert looks up at him with his mouth slick and cocked smugly and Felix is absolutely  _ dizzy  _ with want.

Robert gets back to work, hands fondling and grabbing and squeezing Felix’s meaty thighs, pushing them up more, further open, pressing one finger into him, then two, and then twisting them and curling them just right. Between those long, callused fingers, and the alternating long licks to his slit and focused sucking at his dick, Felix is writhing and squirming and making the most  _ ungodly  _ sounds, his whole body one big writhing ball of heat and sweat and  _ want _ . At one point, he slaps his hand over his mouth, teeth digging into the meat of his palm in a vain attempt to quiet some of the noise, in case Robert has neighbors, god forbid. But a broad hand pats at his hip, then his stomach, then his elbow. He looks down and sees Robert’s eyes open, staring at him, hand outstretched and reaching for his.

He pulls back with a gasp, and his beard is soaked, his chest heaving like he’s forgotten he needs to breathe. “Wanna hear you,” he growls, and shifts up just enough to pull Felix’s suddenly slack hand from his mouth and drag it down to the bed, thumb tracing over the slick imprints his teeth left behind. It’s such a simple touch, but it makes Felix shudder from head to toe, and he can’t help the desperate little whimper of, “God,  _ please _ , fuck me,” that tumbles out of his mouth before he can stop it.

A slant of moonlight cuts across Robert’s face as he rears back to rest on his knees, pupils dilated, nostrils flaring. He drags the back of his hand across his damp mouth, and Felix wants to kiss that smug smirk off his stupidly handsome face. He drops onto all fours over Felix, smiling down at him, and kisses the corner of his mouth like a test. Felix turns his head sharply, desperately, so fast their noses bump together, but Robert just laughs, and kisses him properly, sharing the heady, musky taste of Felix’s cunt with him. Blindly, he reaches out, and Felix hears the scrape of a drawer opening, then some rustling around, and Robert pulls away from the messy, filthy kiss to wiggle the condom in his face.

Felix’s heart thuds solidly in his ribcage, and he sits up eagerly to watch Robert shove his jeans and underwear (red briefs--  _ cute _ ) off as quickly as possible. His dick curves up from a thatch of dark hair peppered with grey, uncut, about average in length, but  _ thick _ , and Felix hurries to wipe his mouth just in case he’s drooling. It’s really not fair that even his dick is nice-looking. Robert rolls on the condom easily, efficiently, and then looks at Felix and catches him watching, probably looking  _ ridiculously  _ desperate.

“It’s been a while,” he repeats weakly, sheepishly.

Robert cocks a brow. “How long is a while?”

Felix feels hot from his face all the way down to his chest, and not in the good way. “D-don’t worry about it,” he fumbles, reaching for Robert. He looks amused, but lets himself be pulled, until he’s braced above Felix on all fours again, looking down at him.

Suddenly, this all feels very, very real. Felix is really lying in a near-stranger’s bed, about to have sex for the first time in well over a decade. His heart is hammering, his palms are sweating, his breath coming fast enough that he’s a little lightheaded.

Robert leans down and kisses him again, and all that fear just goes away. He  _ wants  _ this. For the first time in a long time, he’s doing something just because  _ he  _ wants to. He’s doing something for himself, and as scary as it is, he wants it so badly his whole body is  _ aching  _ for it.

He wraps his arms around Robert’s neck and kisses back hard, nipping at his lips and rocking his hips up. He can feel Robert’s cock rubbing against him, slick and hot and solid, and he reaches down between them with one hand, fumbling a bit to grab it and guide it where he wants it. Robert chuckles against his mouth.

“Easy,” he says in that soft, raspy bedroom voice. He reaches down, steadies Felix’s hand, and in one smooth push sinks in. Felix can feel the slick glide of it under his fingers, and he can say without a doubt that it’s the hottest sensation he’s ever experienced in his life.

They exhale together, hot and muggy as they kiss sloppily around it, and Felix feels full and warm and too big for his skin, and for once he feels  _ good  _ about it. He can almost feel Robert’s pulse throbbing inside him, the solid heat of him, the way the coarse hair on his abdomen and chest rubs his skin a little raw.

“ _ Fuck _ ,” he whispers, hoping that one word can relay everything he’s feeling.

“ _ Yeah _ ,” Robert agrees, pressing his face into Felix’s sweaty hair. He doesn’t move until Felix squeezes his waist with his thighs, and when he does, he starts off slow and easy. Felix rolls up into every long, measured thrust, wanting more, deeper. He wants to feel Robert for  _ days  _ after this, wants the impression of this to last for as long as he can keep it, a memory of his own long-deserved moment of selfishness.

He doesn’t realize he’s murmuring into Robert’s chest until a solid thrust knocks the breath right out of his lungs, sends him scooting almost an inch up the bed. He blinks up at Robert, mouth slack, body tingling all over with heat.

“You wanna feel it?” Robert asks him, and his voice has pitched somewhere low and dangerous. Felix’s brain takes a minute to catch up, and he only has a moment to be embarrassed that he apparently said some of that out loud. Robert thrusts again, hard, and Felix gasps. “I can make you feel it,” he growls.

“Yes, fuck,  _ please _ ,” Felix babbles desperately, digging his nails into Robert’s shoulders, bucking his hips frantically. “Yes, yes,  _ god _ , yes.”

Robert braces one hand on the headboard, the other on Felix’s hip, and Felix wraps both arms tight around his shoulders and hangs on tight. There’s a point where he sort of loses any semblance of coherence, and just makes weak, desperate noises against Robert’s sweaty skin as he rocks into him, slow and measured, but so fucking  _ deep _ . At one point, Robert’s hand slips from Felix’s hip and finds his prick, straining and slick, and tugs it between his scarred knuckles. Felix makes a pathetic little sound, mouthing helplessly at Robert’s shoulder until one good tug-and-thrust combo has him wailing and biting down  _ hard  _ to silence it.

Robert curses and bucks hard into Felix, fingers clenching against his hip, and with a shuddery exhale he comes too, hips twitching and bucking.

He pulls out slowly, holding onto the base of the condom, ties it off and tosses it with confidence into the darkness. Felix vaguely hopes it’s in the general direction of a wastebasket, but can’t really be too bothered at the moment. He lies in the rumpled bed, unmoving save for the rapid heaving of his chest. Robert, sitting back on his knees, pants raggedy along with him.

The moon is higher outside the glass door across the room, brighter, somehow, and in the soft, milky glow Felix can see Robert looking at him sprawled out and weak and sluggishly regaining his ability to think. His eyes catch the light, and a slow, smug smirk curls his lips. His gaze starts at Felix's face and works its way down, lingering on the bruises he can feel blooming on the soft flesh of his hips, and even lower, where his eyes linger. A low, rumbling chuckle bursts from his chest, and Felix can't help but look down as well.

His neck burns and the heat works its way up his face. His thighs are a mess, shining sticky-wet in the moonlight, and there are several dark splotches all along them. He drops his head back and closes his eyes, mortified, but he can't deny the way his (somewhat sore) cunt  _ throbs _ .

Robert laughs again, soft and a little breathless, before he flops facedown next to Felix and burrows into the scattered pillows. He's snoring in what feels like no time at all, leaving Felix to stare up at the darkened ceiling in disbelief.

Did he… did he really just?

He rolls his suddenly heavy head to the side to look at Robert, face smushed into a pillow, mouth open just a little, hair an absolute  _ wreck _ . But he looks… softer than he had earlier  _ (while he was fucking you stupid _ , Felix's brain helpfully supplies, and he's flushed head to toe all over again) his forehead smooth, his face relaxed. Felix's arm feels like lead when he lifts it and brushes his knuckles just barely over his sleeping bedmate's brow. It furrows just a bit, and he snuffles  _ (oh my god _ , Felix wants to whimper) and mumbles something incoherent, squirming closer to Felix and slinging a heavy arm around his waist.

The arm tightens, bicep flexing, and the hand finds his hip and squeezes. He makes a soft, growly little sound of approval, before sinking deeper into sleep with a soft sigh, and Felix's heart thumps clumsily in his chest.

Eventually, his mind stops racing long enough for him to relax, and eventually he drifts to sleep with Robert's arm around him and the surprisingly soothing noise of his rumbling snores in his ear.

**Author's Note:**

> WELL. Uh. I wrote porn. For the first time in a while. It's been sitting in my docs for ages, but I figured I should post it to at least give some... incentive for me to add more? I really love this saga, and I want to share it with people! So why not do that with smut?
> 
> Also, if you haven't read any of the rest of the Dadwolf Saga, the premise is essentially: What if having a one night stand with Robert DIDN'T lock in his bad end? And what if the Dadsona was a WEREWOLF? This is purely self-indulgent on my part, because I love both Robert and also werewolves.
> 
> Anyway, warnings! There's a LOT of nervousness on Felix's part, but never once is there a moment of consent that is not 100% enthusiastic. Boy just has anxiety. There are frequent verbal check-ins. I also, as a trans guy, personally like to use terms that may be designated "feminine" to refer to my trans characters' genitalia. If that is something that bothers you, please take your own comfort into account!


End file.
